


Castle On A Cloud

by allthemagicthings



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 10:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20338300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthemagicthings/pseuds/allthemagicthings
Summary: He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or not when the person standing next to his bed turned out to be his daughter. No, not his daughter. He shook his head, hoping his brain wouldn't adapt to that. The imposter. The fairy child. Fray.





	Castle On A Cloud

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Soliyra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soliyra/gifts).

> Written to help support of Jason Ralph's Covenant House International Sleep Out Fundraiser. Check out @Drabbles4Jason on Twitter to see how you can get one of your own. Thank you to Soliyra for supporting a great cause!

Eliot startled awake at the touch of a hand on his left shoulder. Not Fen — it couldn't be Fen, Fen slept on his right side, he knew that, was always hyper aware of where she was lying. A couple of months ago — or was it years now? Time had gotten weird and out of order in Eliot's brain — fear wouldn't have been his first reaction to someone waking him in the middle of the night.

It would have been Margo, or Quentin, or some random kid who got lost at a cottage party or who just really craved a good cocktail. That was another life though, a life without responsabilites, people trying to assassinate him or a castle invaded by creepy fairies. A life with magic, and the ever present security that if someone _actually_ wanted to attack him, he could throw them against a wall with a single thought.

He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or not when the person standing next to his bed turned out to be his daughter. No, not his daughter. He shook his head, hoping his brain wouldn't adapt to that. The imposter. The fairy child. Fray.

"My excuses." She scoffed at him. "I had forgotten how much of a coward you were." He had to admit that the high and mighty tone she was using sounded a tad too familiar to the one he tended to use himself. Especially right now, when he could detect a slight crack, a hidden fear that she was trying to cover up.

"What are you doing in my room at —” He tried looking for some kind of phone or digital clock, still stuck in his old habits. "At fuck o'clock at night?" The fact that cursing in front of your child might not be the best idea didn't occur to him until after the words had left his mouth. _No, still not your child,_ he kept telling his brain.

“I have reason to think there's something wrong.” Her eyes were nervously darting to the room's entrance. "I have heard. . . sounds. Loud grumbles like an army of giants approaching." Eliot sat up. That was just what he needed right now, an army of fucking giants. Thanks, Fillory. 

He tried to pay closer attention to the sounds coming from afar, but he couldn’t hear anything unusual. Nothing but silence and the distant sound of the weather, of what was probably a thunderstorm — _Oh._ “They were accompanied by strange lights, and —” She went on and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing, not even when Fen, half asleep, slapped what she could reach of his body without looking.

It was just so ridiculous, the fairy child, the oh so fearless girl was afraid of — “A storm.” Fray had woken up and run into her parents bedroom — fake parents of course, not her real ones — because of a plain old thunderstorm. “It’s just a storm, Fray. Christ, and I thought there would be _giants_ or some shi—”

“They probably don’t have them in the Fairy Realm.” Now Fen was definitely awake. “We barely ever had them in Fillory before magic went out.” She turned to their daugh— Fray. “It’s okay sweetheart, you don’t have to be afraid, it can’t harm you.”

“I am not afraid!” She sounded so _insulted_. Eliot almost wanted to laugh again, but Fen quickly sent a glare his way. 

“Well no matter what, me and your father will protect you. You know that, don’t you darling?” 

Why did Fen have to be so _gullible_? And so goddamn sincere. Eliot couldn’t bring himself to correct her, the way he kept correcting himself. _And on the off chance she is my offspring. . ._ He really didn’t want to repeat his father’s mistakes. His own attempts at gaining consolation from his parents during particularly bad storms had never gone well. His father didn’t like men showing any signs of weakness. Those were the mistakes he never wanted to repeat, even if Fray's loyalty currently belonged to someone else.

"Well I can't sleep through this noise anyway." A terrible lie, the rumbling — such an ordinary sound, it almost felt too mundane for this magical land — was barely audible to him. “You could stay, if you wanted. I suppose we could play cards, or I could tell you some Earth stories-”

"I could braid your hair!" Fen sounded thrilled by Eliot’s idea, while Fray still seemed reluctant.

An especially loud thunderclap echoed through the halls in that moment, and she nodded. “I was supposed to. . . observe you anyway.”

She was _so_ incredibly afraid of showing the tiniest sign of vulnerability, Eliot had to admit there was some similarity to himself there. “So, Earth stories. Current events aren’t exactly fun so maybe a fairy tale? Though they’d probably seem boring compared to what you’ve already lived through. . .” 

“You could sing something?” Fen suggested to Eliot, placing herself behind Fray and combing through wild strands of hair. “You have such a lovely voice, it’s a shame you couldn’t sing her lullabies as a baby.” 

Eliot could see Fray’s hand balling into a fist. Something Fen said had made her uncomfortable. Maybe it was her enthusiasm about their little family, the way she pretended like the tragedy was over and they could be okay now. He didn’t want to tell her she couldn’t trust that. It was late and the world was a bad enough place already, they might as well lose themselves in some of the good things. 

And Eliot didn’t mind singing. It calmed him, especially the old Les Mis songs he had memorized back when he used to be a theatre kid. 

So they settled, Fen’s fingers giddlily gliding through her daughter’s hair, working it into complicated hairstyles, just for her to undo them again and start over, never truly satisfied with the result. Or maybe she just didn’t want this to stop. Fray seemed calm and almost happy for the first time since they had met her and even joined in on Eliot’s song. He was now leaning against the headboard, observing his daughter. Her voice was soft and clear, not unlike his own, and it had to be easy to sing along, after Eliot had run out of song ideas and settled on repeating the ones he had already sung, over and over again.

At some point his eyes fluttered shut and she went on, finishing the song on her own, her words sending him softly to sleep.

“_I know a place where no one’s lost_

_I know a place where no one cries_

_crying at all is not allowed_

_not in my castle on a cloud. . .”_

  
  



End file.
